Thursday, August 14, 2008

... and my affinity for them to a co-worker on the subway ride home--and of course she gave me the "you're a walking tumor, and you should plan your funeral now" look. I don't even love cigs, and I'm not addicted--it's more of a thing to do--a hobby.

But there she went, spoiling my tiny happiness. This is the same woman who told me that American Apparel actually only has friendly factories in the U.S., but has cruel sweat shops in the Dominican Republic that make the fabric that goes into those skimpy-sporty tees and dresses.

Back to the cigs. She reminded me of what it'd do to my skin--and at that point I let her rattle away, and I zoned out. I am Charlie Brown--she's the parents.

Enough.

Tonight, I had 5 Virginia Slims left in the pack I bought last month (Ultra Lights, btw). I washed my sheets, and wrote a page and a half of "the book." I made an agreement with myself--one page, one cig. I exceeded my own expectations--and finally named the protagonist.

I'll split the remaining 4 with Hannah, and then put "the hobby" away for a bit. I think.

p.s. Today Rachel called my purse a cornucopia. I haven't heard that word in forever. She says it's because I carry around so many snacks--M&Ms, gummy candies, fruit snacks, sweet tarts, tic tacs, cookies, and cigs. I've gotta downsize.

p.p.s. if this is random, it's because it's 12:42 in the morning. *yawn*

5 comments:

I'm a cigar smoker and like you I consider it a hobby. I rarely "crave" or "need" them. Honestly the only time I smoke excessively is on the golf course and that's because my buddies do it. It's hard to say no with all that sweet smoke floating around. I've come to the conclusion that perhaps it's a social thing for me.